Is there a story behind this warband? As in do they dress like that all the time or are they just doing it for halowe'en?

A Geheimnisnacht Tale

Fallen autumn leaves swirled in the breeze as the late evening sun coloured the blanched grass and scrubby bushes on the hills with a deep golden hue. The sunlight brought a strange beauty to the fallow fields of farms long-abandoned that displayed the withered and dry remnants of un-harvested crops, the twisted and bare trees, the empty barns and burned-out hovels that dotted the sorrowful brown and grey landscape.

Heavy Orcish boots tramped across the hillside as a strange, rag-tag group approached a deserted farm on the outskirts of Vercuso, their long shadows stretched out before them. The troupe presented a patch-work appearance of crudely stitched attire, cobbled together from found and stolen odds and ends; an unsophisticated facade of creatures of supernatural origin.

The figure leading the band; dark-robed, hooded and carrying a rusted scythe slowed his pace and the rest of the troupe gathered around him as they caught up.

"What is it Kap… erm, I mean Boss?" said Big Bad, a wolf-pelt draped over his head and shoulders.

"Something's wrong" said the Reaper "there's a funny stink comin' from down there."

The others sniffed the air and looked at each other: All they knew was that they couldn't smell rotting fish for a change… but then they suddenly could. They turned around as one and watched the approach of a lumbering Troll with a huge, dead sea-creature strapped to his back.

"Why is he still wearing that?" asked Roosta, from within the metal beak of his chicken-outfit.

The others turned on the feathered Orc with critical looks, references to pots and kettles on the tips of their tongues but Reaper stopped them all short with a snarl.

"Stop muckin' about, ye gitz! There's something up and we ain't got time for squabblin'. I can smell… Dead'Unz." he growled.

Last edited by WarbossKurgan on Thu 30 Oct 2008 - 5:29; edited 1 time in total